Blanche tugged at Archie's sleeve. "I thought he was supposed to be a yeti," she whispered.

Drolma walked ahead, navigating the narrow passageways and winding turns of the cave, the light of the noodle around his neck guiding their way. He should not have been able to hear Blanche, but he did.

"You caught me on a good hair day," he joked.

Archie and Blanche were too stunned to laugh. If this truly was Drolma, he was over a thousand years old. And while he had appeared old at first, he moved freely and his voice carried the laughter of youth. Archie studied him as well as he could, curious if the fur covering the man's torso was worn or grown.

"Is this where Queen Tamani was buried?" Archie asked. He remembered the Bhantla's words. History said that Tamani had given Ambrosia's ashes to the yetis, but the Bhantla had said that Tamani had given her own body, allowing herself to be buried in the mountains.

"Diptla Tamani," Drolma corrected. "You should honor her with her true title. You carry her with you. The Tariaksuq have stolen parts of her that you now return."

Archie looked down at the bags of antler dust in his hands. Their weight made it hard for him to keep up with Drolma, but he did not ask the giant man to help with the burden. Archie would only hand it over once he knew what he'd be getting back.

They continued down a muddy slope and through a wet tunnel and through a small opening. Once they returned to easier traversal, Drolma finally answered Archie's original question.

"Tamani does not belong to a single burial site," he said. "She belongs to the yetis. She goes where they need her."

"It felt like the grove was moving," Blanche said. "Is that why?"

"I travel these mountains, bringing Tamani to those who need her. Now, I bring her to you. And you will tell me your need."

Archie knew what he wanted. "I was hoping—"

"Not yet," Drolma interrupted. "We'll be with Tamani soon. Then, you will tell us."

Archie pursed his lips. He could hardly stand to wait. To wonder if he'd be given what he had come so far for. But he knew that he would get nothing if he upset the ancient being that led their way. Archie became acutely aware of the fact that if Drolma dispelled the light of the noodle, they'd be lost and die in the darkness.

And so he stayed silent as they continued the arduous journey deeper into the cave. Drolma had said it'd be soon, but Archie realized that perhaps soon meant something different to an eighteen-year-old than it did to a thousand-year-old. He had little concept of the passage of time, only concepts of exhaustion and depth, but he figured they must have hiked through the caves for an hour before Drolma finally spoke again.

"We're here."

Drolma stretched his arms out wide and stood up tall—taller than he had at any point before. Taller than Archie thought possible. Maybe even taller than Archie and Blanche combined. The light of the noodle was as bright as ever but no longer reached the walls, and Drolma's deep voice echoed in the great big cavern.

Archie passed through the final narrow passageway, Blanche grabbing onto his sleeve as they approached Drolma.

"Can you feel her?" Drolma asked.

Archie shook his head. "I don't think so."

Drolma smiled. "Do not be alarmed," he said as he ran his finger along the noodle, stripping the light off of it in a powder. The luminescent dust danced into the air as a single string, winding its way around the cavern. Where it passed, other lights faded in and out, their lines straight and vertical. The lights became echoes of each other, a ripple of gold that bounced back and forth across the cavern, amplifying until Archie could see the shapes in the lines.

They were trees. Dozens of golden, ethereal trees. He had seen it before in his dream. He remembered the sight of it, growing tall over Sain. Nori pouring blood onto it. Fire consuming the village.

But the memory of the nightmare was washed away by wonder. The trees weren't of solid form. The million little strings of light that made up each of them moved up and down in a beautifully chaotic rhythm. The trees were thin, few wider than Archie, and they stretched up, up, up toward a ceiling that couldn't be seen.

Archie had never seen something so beautiful. But more than just their beauty, the trees gave him a warmth. Not the warmth of the fire that burned as it fought the cold. This warmth started from within. From his soul. He laughed and looked at Blanche, admiring the way the soft gold light played on her face. She cried and laughed too.

As his body acclimated to the new sensation, he realized that what he was feeling was essence. Pure, powerful essence. Far more powerful than the supercharged noodles Anise had made and unchanged by the human hand. This was the essence of Tamani, firstborn of Ambrosia, and it gave Archie a bliss unlike anything he had ever felt in his life.

"She's beautiful," Blanche said.

Drolma gently caressed a tree, the light glowing brightest where his fingertips grazed. "Indeed she is."

Blanche held her bag of antler dust out. "This belongs to you," she said to the open air.

Archie raised a hand toward Blanche, opening his mouth to say something to stop her. They needed to trade, not to freely give. But he could not form the words. He no longer believed them. He could not hope to understand the power and importance of the scene that played out before him. He could only witness.

The dust floated from Blanche's bag and scattered throughout the cavern, specks hitting the trees and producing ripples of light like rain. The trees glowed brighter and more fully, more of their shape revealing itself. Drolma moved from tree to tree, celebrating with a gentle smile and a touch from his hand.

Archie looked down at his bag. He wanted to open it. To let the dust return. He was holding a goddess in his hands. Releasing her was his obligation. But he squeezed the bag tightly shut.

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"I need you to help my friend," he said.

Drolma's smile faded. He turned to Archie. The newfound light was not forgiving on his features. His eyebrows were pinched up by lumps of flesh, his upper lip bulging out as it hid oversized teeth. Without his smile, the more bestial qualities of his face dominated his appearance.

"Go on," he growled.

Fear closed its shadowy hand around Archie. But he wasn't afraid of the creature before him. He was afraid that he might not be enough. That he might not be able to help those who needed it. The thought filled him with a great sorrow, tears forming in his eyes.

"The people of Khala suffer," he said. "They go hungry. They starve."

Drolma's face drooped with wariness and thinly veiled anger.

"We—we would require…a piece of wood. From which we could make boards. The…the barnacles, they…" Archie's confidence wavered with each word. "They grow on Ambrosial essence. They would—they would feed dozens. Hundreds."

Drolma stepped toward Archie, his silhouette growing larger against the lights behind him. His voice deepened, losing all of its youth and playfulness. "If I were to deny this, would you deny me my precious Tamani?"

Archie looked down at the bag, and then up at the monster that loomed over him. "No," he said. And then he got angry. "But how could you? Look around! Look at all of this essence!"

"Archie…" Blanche warned.

But Archie kept going, riling himself up. He didn't care that Drolma could break him in half with a single swipe. This was bigger than life and death. "You have all of this while others suffer! You are sitting on the greatest bounty in the world! And it was given to you! This was meant to be spread! To be shared! And yet you keep it all to yourself!"

"Tamani was mine!" Drolma roared with an intensity that seemed to shake the very cavern itself. Blanche backed away to the wall. Archie stood strong.

"Not if she truly believed in her mother! If she did, she belonged to everyone. To help end their suffering."

Drolma grew taller, fur extending up his neck and across the backs of his hands. "And what of our suffering?" he roared. "What of my people that have had their lands taken away?"

Archie had no counter. He had no further arguments. How could he? This was the realm of gods and ancient creatures and a thousand years of history. He felt infinitely small in that cavern. He looked down at the bag in his hand and turned it over, letting the dust spill out.

It trickled through the air and wove between the trees. But instead of joining the trees, the trees disintegrated into a stream of dust that moved through the air. One by one, the trees ceased to exist until none remained and the cavern was lit by a single cloud of light. The cloud balled up into a near-sphere, little lines of light casting down from it and looping back around. Shapes formed on the cloud.

"Tamani…" Blanche muttered.

And then Archie saw it too. The dents for eyes. The line of a mouth. The wisps of hair.

The mouth moved and a voice of a hundred harmonies filled the cave.

"They are of pure heart," the cloud said.

"But I cannot stand to give you away," Drolma countered, his voice now that of a forlorn lover.

"Have you forgotten the days that you roamed the far-reaching lands? I exist beyond these mountains. Where the people laugh and the child's belly is full, I exist. You will forever be my keeper, my love. But these children of pure heart deserve a piece of me. The girl is gentle, and the boy smells of mother. They will do good."

Drolma frowned. "Yes, my love."

A branch stretched from the cloud down to Drolma, taking the solid shape of a golden-brown wood before him. He took it in his hand and snapped it off.

"I give you this piece of Tamani tree with the intention that it will be used to feed the people of Khala. So long as those intentions are honored, the essence will be free to you."

He moved like a pallbearer to Blanche, lowering the thick slab of a branch to her. She took it in both hands with great reverence.

"And an acorn," Archie blurted out. Drolma looked at him with surprised anger. Archie couldn't blame him. He had surprised himself with the suddenness of the request.

Before Drolma could roar again, Archie elaborated. "To bring essence to my village. It wouldn't need to be much. Not like…not like what you gave for Kodoloun."

"You ask too much," Drolma said.

"But I'm asking."

And then there was a silence.

"Give me the branch," Drolma said. "And I will split its essence into the acorn."

Blanche started to offer the branch, but Archie grabbed her arm to stop her. "No," he said. "The people of Khala need this. Their need is more dire than mine. I won't have their salvation watered down."

Drolma considered the words with a smile. He looked as human as he had back at the entrance of the cave. He held a hand up toward the cloud of light. "So you are of generous spirit. Hm. The acorn would be weak. It would take years to replenish the entirety of your land."

"I stand by my priorities."

"Very well."

Another branch of light grew down to Drolma, a fully physical acorn growing on the end and dropping into his hand. He gave it to Archie.

"Thank you, my love," the cloud said before splitting apart, raining back down into the soft shapes of trees.

"The tree will require more water than you are accustomed to," Drolma said.

Archie thought of his pitcher of never-ending water. "I'll manage. And thank you."

"Thank you," Blanche echoed.

"In its first days, the tree will want to grow," Drolma explained. "It must be given special attention. A special technique. Will one of you learn the way?"

Archie looked at Blanche. He couldn't think of anyone better suited. She caught his gaze and smiled.

"I will," she said.

A wisp of light jumped from the tree to Drolma's hand. He stepped toward Blanche and put his hand on her head. The light shimmered down and covered her before fading away. Blanche staggered, her hand reaching out for balance. Archie caught it and held her up.

"It is done, and you may leave," Drolma said.

Archie looked back down the tunnel they had come from. Even if he knew the way, he wasn't sure his weak body could take him there.

"We won't make it back," Blanche said. "We've hardly eaten for days."

"And we'll get lost," Archie added.

Drolma lifted his hand again, another sprinkling of light descending into his palm. "I will give you strength. You will need neither sup nor drink for three days."

He blew the dust over Archie and Blanche. Archie couldn't help but to inhale it, but he was glad that he did. His body stirred back to life, his muscles refreshed, his mind sharpened. Rejuvenation went like a wave down from his head to his feet, making him bounce his weight from foot to foot in overflowing excitement.

"I will send you another way," Drolma said. "A faster way. You will be surprised how far south you will emerge."

Blanche turned to Archie. "Our packs are still back there. I didn't have anything I wouldn't mind leaving behind."

Archie thought through his belongings. There was only one thing he couldn't stomach to leave behind, and that thing was in his pocket. He stuck his hand in to confirm, running his fingers along the smooth surface of the omnihandle.

Touching it made him think of home. Of Petrichor. Of his parents. And then he thought of how they would react to the acorn. The life it would breathe back into the village. An undeniable smile trickled up to his lips.

"I have everything I need," he said. "I'm ready to go home."

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